Young & Beautiful

A silent, betraying streak of jealousy whips across Louis’ chest. But he pushes it down, pushes if
far away because no. This is not the time.
“I needed a friend. A true friend. And that’s what he was. He was the best mate I’d ever had. We
never took anything seriously, nothing was serious, and we always had fun and he was always so
nice and it was like…for the first time I was almost properly happy. My father was married to a
nice lady and I had a best mate and a sister and Anne—my mum—and I was just sort of…happy.
“But then everything became serious.”
Louis watches, entranced and caught as Harry closes his eyes.
“Gemma left without saying goodbye. She got signed and she just left because she didn’t want to
deal with my father anymore. But I guess she didn’t want to deal with me either because I’ve
barely heard from her since. She’s a proper addict now. My father did well.” The bitterness tinges
his words painfully. Louis wants to dilute it, wants to suck the venom out of the bite. “It was only
a month later, one fucking month, when Anne left. She just took the money and left in the middle
of the night. She didn’t say goodbye either. She was just gone.
“And then Zayn told me he was in love with me. And I couldn’t… I needed a friend, Louis. I
didn’t want that. I wanted a friend. But Zayn wanted more, needed more, so… I remember
laughing. Laughing because I didn’t want it all to be so serious. I didn’t want everything to be that
serious. I wanted to always have fun with him, I wanted to always care for him, but I didn’t want
him to ruin it like that… But things were never the same afterwards, and so I lost my sister, my
mum, and my best mate. But, still, it was just like when Barbara died—I didn’t feel it. It was like it
was someone else’s life and not my own. I didn’t deal with it because, really, I didn’t have to. I
just kept living and made my own fun and forgot it all. I never let anything become too heavy, too
serious, you know? And it was fine.
“For the next two years of my life, after Mira left my father, I went to boarding school for a bit
until my father began relapsing again. So I came back to look after him. Then eventually I came
here. He was in a bad state when I returned, a really bad state, and he went missing for months
and months. After awhile we’d come to the conclusion that he’d killed himself—he’s always
saying he wants to—and so we searched for him. I spent the first months here searching for him
every chance I could, getting phone calls from P.I.’s and family friends who just kept searching,
never giving up. Trying to keep it from the tabloids. Paying off reporters. You name it.”
Louis’ mind is turning, images flying past at lightning speed.
“Is that what you were searching for at your house?” he asks, voice raw, pieces fitting together in
his head. “When—when my mum came and you took me with you? Were you searching for your
father?”
Harry nods, biting his lip. “I thought he might’ve went there to…you know. I was searching for
his body, basically. Odd and horrible as that must sound. That’s why I didn’t want you to follow
me.” Again, Harry bites his lip, working away at it nervously, furiously. “I shouldn’t have brought
you, though, I know. I’m sorry. I just…”
“Don’t apologize,” Louis says, unable to blink and wanting so badly to touch, to hold, to clutch.
“I wouldn’t have wanted you to…go through that alone. Were it as bad as you’d thought.”
Silence expands within the room.
“We did find him, though. Alive,” Harry says eventually, slow and careening. “A friend of the
family did. I’ve kept a close eye on him ever since, but… He’s…well. He’s not great right now.